She Has Nightmares
by HisAijin
Summary: "Sometimes, my mommy screams at night. But daddy always calms her down." - one shot - sort of Ulquiorra/OC but not only slightly -


_**Hi * blushes * my name is Lily, but you can call me whatever you want to. **_

_**I found the prompt for this one shot on Pinterest and I obsessed over which character would fit right and I suppose Ulquiorra fit the bill.**_

_**Please tell me what you think, I'm thinking about making this into a story but it all depends. This is really just to soother the plot bunnies hissing in my ear.  
**_

_**Prompt: 'Sometimes, my mommy screams at night. But daddy always calms her down.'**_

_**OC: Polly**_

* * *

It happened ever so often.

Mostly at the start of spring, when she saw the honeysuckle begin to bloom. She tried in vain to keep it from her mama's sight, but she always seemed to find it. And once mama saw it, the good times were over for a solid month.

Her and her mama would be in the large garden the estate provided, running around and playing a game of tag or something. Then the garden would go quiet, no sounds of laughter from her mama's pretty lips. She would have to go find her and when she did, mama would be frozen. And the culprit could be a hundred yards away from her, it just took the smell to bring it all back. Fire and destruction, rubble raining down on her mama's head and the screams of the child she had before, the little boy she couldn't save.

Then daddy would get home from doing whatever he did during the day and he would have to bring mama in. She would be frozen, even for hours at a time. The little girl, with her moths hair and her father's eyes, would watch in concerned curiosity at the yearly ritual. Daddy would bring mama to her room and lie her out on the bed, shuffling his daughter out with his hands so he could change mama without his daughter seeing her mother's tears.

It was never good for a child to see their mother cry.

But the tears didn't bother the little girl, it was what came after, when nighttime came and mama was stuck with her dreams.

* * *

Her lids fluttered open to a blood curdling scream.

It didn't even make her heart pound anymore. It didn't make her sweaty and shaky, it didn't make her cry, it didn't make her worry if mama was ok. Because she was, daddy was there. But, as with every night this happened, the little girl slid from her bed, ruffled dress bunching around her hips as she did so, and she shuffled towards the door. When she slid it open, the screams got louder and she winced, slipping out into the hallway, leaving her door open as she saw the light from her parents cracked door shooting through the hallway. She swallowed rather loudly and tip toed towards that door, expecting the worse.

But daddy was there, holding mama by her shoulders as she rocked and screamed, long fingers tangled in her hair.

"_Don't touch me_!"

"Chitori," her father whispered. "Calm down. You'll wake Mema."

"_Don't touch me_!"

"Chitori," her father whispered again, shaking her slightly. "Chitori, it was just a nightmare. It was nothing more, calm down."

"_No_," her mother wailed, flailing in daddy's arms.

Mema watched from the door as her mother's fists came down on daddy's chest, but he didn't seem affected. Of course he wasn't. Daddy was strong, daddy could do anything, he could be strong for mama. Her sighed and wrapped his arms around her, making Mema's eyes widen. She had never seen daddy actually hug mama, this was weird. He pressed his lips into her hair, whispering something under his breath. Mama looked up at him, tears running down her puffy face. Her bright eyes shot to the doorway, to Mema and mama started wailing again, burying her face in daddy's chest.

"_I can't do this anymore…_"

Mema cocked her head, listening to mama's words before daddy left her there on the bed, helping Mema back to her room. As he folded her into bed, she looked up at him curiously.

"I'm going to help your mother," he muttered, truly looking sad.

Daddy didn't get sad.

But Mema wasn't worried about that, she just grinned cheekily and relaxed into the pillows. "Good," she yawned, lids heavy. "Good, mama is always so worried…"

"Yes," daddy muttered. "Yes she is."

* * *

"You died on a Saturday," her lips brushed lazily, salty with dried tears. "I was asleep…"

Wind brushed over the gravestone, fresh granite with her name and date of birth carved into it. No death date, daddy didn't believe in true death because he had been reborn. Mama would be reborn again someday, as what, no one really knew. But daddy believed in it, so Mema did as well. She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear, lower lip trembling.

"Daddy doesn't like me coming out here, so I snuck out during viola lessons."

No, daddy didn't like her coming out here, because she didn't need to see her mothers grave.

She didn't need to see her tears.

She didn't need to see her so sad.

But she also didn't need to live a life without her mother.

"I don't know why you asked him to do that, mama," Mema trembled, sinking down to her knees. "Daddy misses you, I miss you."

But apparently, daddy and Mema weren't good enough for her to live. Apparently, some little boy she knew for a few months several years before Mema was born, meant more than anyone in the world.

"Mema."

The little girl jumped to her feet, whipping around to daddy. She stared at him for a long time, hands curled against her chest, and then she hung her head, sobbing. "I wasn't good enough!"

He stared at his daughter and then knelt down in front of her, sighing as if he were tired. "Mema, you were good enough. You were everything to your mother."

"But she couldn't live! I wasn't good enough."

She was so little, she didn't understand that her mother was suffering. Memories of fire, a baby crying. She was beginning to become violent, she was beginning to think he was the enemy and that he needed to get away from her. She was beginning to attack him in his sleep. And she didn't want to do that.

"_No one else,_" she had whispered.

No one else, no other way. He had told her to just disappear, but she couldn't bear that either. So, when Mema was still asleep, he took her out to the garden, did the dead and laid her body to rest. She was a good mother, a good wife, she didn't deserve to have those nightmares. The ones caused by something that could have been prevented but no one stopped it. Now, here they were, father and daughter, grieving over a woman he deemed perfect.

"It had nothing to do with being good enough, Mema."

What else could he say? Emotions weren't exactly forthcoming to him.

His daughter looked up at him with his eyes and he didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know how to explain, that her mother just couldn't do it anymore. She wouldn't understand until she was older, and that wouldn't be for a long time.

He stared at her, eyes flickering around her face and then he stood, holding out his hand to her. "Let us go inside and find something to eat," he muttered.

She stared at him oddly for a moment and then scrambled to her feet, taking a hold of his hand and letting him tug her back home.

She just didn't understand and she wouldn't until she was older.


End file.
